Incomplete Lullaby
by Authors Tune
Summary: Naomi and Violet support Addison through a miscarriage.
1. Chapter 1

**Incomplete Lullaby**

_by Author's Tune_

_AN: I like angst...and the different friendship dynamics that flitter in and out of Private Practice. In case you don't pick that up by reading this fic :-)_

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><p>It's awkward; doing an ultrasound on yourself. And doing it in the middle of the night, feels so shameful and childlike. The dull glow of the monitor pulled close to the trolley and the instrument held backwards in your own hand. But the answer is quickly available and not broadcast through the office before your feet hit the ground.<p>

The absence of a heart beat on the tiny foetus is all the more evident, even to a neonatal surgeon, when just weeks earlier it was pulsating so strongly on the screen. Like a slap in the face obvious.

In the rarely found silence of the office, Addison set everything back in place, buttoned her jeans, lowered her top and curled on to her side. Drawing her knees slowly up towards her chest, she ducked her chin and squeezed her eyes shut, holding the tears in only briefly before they ran over her temple and onto the sheet.

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><p>It might have been awkward doing an ultrasound on herself, but it was at least possible. Managing the D&amp;C herself wasn't an option and she knew she needed it. Her body wasn't letting go of the cells inside of her, keeping them there as if continuing the façade of a healthy pregnancy. Her abdomen cramped ever so slightly and the first signs of a heightened body temperature were becoming noticeable. If it wasn't removed, she would become septic. For a brief moment she indulged herself in self pity; so envious of the women they treated in the practice who had supportive and loyal partners. Someone next to them to hold their hand, kiss their cheek and make the decisions when making them seems impossible.<p>

She shook the thought off. Why spend time wishing for something that isn't available and probably not even possible. Her track record spoke for itself.

"…and they want an elite athlete. How many Olympians do they think we have that donate sperm? These people are irrational. What ever happened to just wanting to have a healthy baby with two arms and legs? Now people want to engineer the next bloody…I don't know…who's a famous athlete? I don't even know. We spend too much time at the office, we should start watching football or something."

Addison drew in a slow breath and blinked; she hadn't even realised she had reached Naomi's door and clearly having missed the start of their conversation, she faltered. "Umm…yes," Addison responded, acutely aware at the inadequacy of her attempt to maintain a sense of normalcy and control. She had nothing to give and the tears were welling involuntarily beneath her lower eyelids.

"What is it, Addi?" Naomi was on her feet, although still protected by the large desk that she had been unsuccessfully trying to utilise to distract from her most recent complicated case. "What's wrong?"

"I ah…" she trailed off, looking to the ceiling and fanning her face with her hands. She emitted a few sounds, air being caught in her tightening throat and attempts at articulating the remainder of her sentence. Exhaling heavily in frustration, she shook her head quickly from left to right. "Sorry."

She didn't move though, almost immobilised mid chaotic thought with one hand on the door frame and the other on the door handle of Naomi's half opened door. "Sit." A basic instruction, something to follow easily that didn't require any verbalisation.

Addison slumped in to the corner of the comfortable sofa, backed against the wall under the blinds which protected the room from inquisitive colleagues. Naomi quietly clicked the door closed and sat, one leg tucked under her and facing Addison. "I'm sorry," Addison offered.

"Reading minds – Violet's area of expertise, not mine. Me, you kind of have to talk," Naomi said softly, smiling and flicking Addison's arm with her finger tips. She earned an anguished nod in return and a shrug.

"I don't know how it happens sometimes," Addison responded. "I've got it all sorted in my head and then I walk through this door and I'm suddenly a mess."

Naomi nodded, curling her fingers around Addison's forearm. "Well, mess away; just talk along with it."

They sat quietly for a few moments with the sound of the second hand ticking away on the old analogue wall clock, seeming to emphasise the prolonged silence. "I just," Addison began, gritting her teeth in frustration at her lack of ability to control the uncertainty in her voice. "I just need your help with something. But it has to be between you and me. I just need your help, Nay."

"Mmmm," Naomi nodded. "Of course, anything, you know that." Addison stared into her eyes as if searching for something invisible. Wanting to communicate without having to say any words; words made everything real. "Don't make me hug you, before you tell me. That's just not the way things work. But I'll do what I have to do." Naomi smiled and spoke so gently, running her hand down Addison's arm before seeking her hand and holding it tightly.

"I need you to do a D&C," Addison whispered, eye contact gone as her gaze fixated on her lap. "Tonight. I'm getting…it's getting infected."

"Addison…" Naomi responded softly.

"I just need you to get it out Nay, please. I need it out." Addison's hand trembled and a tear ran down the end of her nose and dripped to her lap. "Please?" she repeated, covering her face with both hands and folding her body forward.

"Of course," Naomi responded gently. "Of course I will."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I'm sorry I didn't…" The words were muffled by her hands, pressed unmoving to her crumbling face.

Naomi shook her head, reaching out and leaning her body forward to wrap her arms around Addison. "Shhhh. Don't be crazy, it's okay. Just be a mess for a while. You're allowed to be a mess this time."

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><p>"It's complicated," Addison stated, sitting back with her legs pulled up to her chest and shoes discarded on the floor.<p>

Naomi smiled. "Is that in your usual understated style?" she asked and earned a shrug in response. "How far along?"

"I don't know, maybe about sixteen weeks. I didn't do measurements, I didn't really look to see when it, you know. Just wanted to check for the heartbeat."

"Why didn't you call me to do the ultrasound?" Naomi asked in concern. "You shouldn't have had to do that alone."

"I knew something was wrong. And well, I'm complicated."

"You know I'll need to do it again, don't you."

"Yes, I haven't completely lost my medical expertise since I became the patient."

Naomi rolled her eyes. "So then you know that I need someone else in there. I can't anaesthetise you and do the procedure."

"You have to," Addison dropped her voice to a whisper. "I don't want anyone else to know."

Naomi sighed and let it go for the moment. "Kevin?"

"What about him?"

"Well, sixteen weeks. I'm guessing Kevin's?" Addison nodded slowly. "You didn't tell him?"

"No."

"Okay," Naomi responded. It didn't surprise her in the least; they were all so guarded. An occupational hazard perhaps, so many hours of every day, spent under a professional veil.

"Do it without a general," Addison stated suddenly.

"What?"

"I'll have it without a general anaesthetic. Just use a local."

"No. No way, Addison. It's painful, it's uncomfortable. It's distressing," Naomi said, searching her mind for every possible reason that Addison might accept. It wasn't clinically indicated, wasn't a reason that the best neonatal surgeon in the country would accept.

"It's necessary."

"No, it's not. I get that you don't want everyone to know but they would understand. Take your pick, we've got an office full of doctors who would all do anything for you. Well, when they're not so self absorbed in their own drama but still, generally anything. And this, this they would do."

Addison shook her head before indulging her nervous habit and raking her fingers through her hair. It resulted in a few more stray pieces falling forward and shadowing her face, hiding her eyes. She didn't answer, simply ignored the reality and left it alone, for dealing with when the pressure became greater. "Did I deserve this? Is this karma? Is my entire life going to just be making up for all my screw ups only to be punished anyway?"

"No. Life doesn't work that way, you know that as well as I do. Crappy things happen to good people; all the time."

"Yeah and crappier things happen to bad people."

"You're not a bad person Addison," Naomi stated, realising that she wasn't having a logical conversation with her generally rational friend.

Addison sighed heavily and rolled her eyes. "Well, I am. And this, this is karma."

A heavy silence fell over them, both lost in their own thoughts. Naomi reached forward, slipping her hand gently into Addison's and said quietly, "You think that because you had a termination, you don't deserve to be happy? Even I think that's ridiculous."

Addison stared at her, her heart racing. She didn't respond, she didn't even know how to. Thoughts were running chaotically through her mind but she wasn't able to put words to any of them. They were too harsh, too shameful. Nothing but self deprecating self talk. She felt Naomi squeeze her hand and tug slightly on her arm. Shaking her head, she pushed the thoughts aside, as if they disappeared with the simple act. "Local anaesthetic only. And Violet, Violet can be there."

"Come on Addi - I'm not doing a d and c on you with a local, that is just crazy," Naomi withdrew her hand and gestured wildly in frustration. "And Violet? As much as I think you need to talk with Violet, I'm not sure her assistance in this surgery, and I know you know this is surgery, is in your best medical interest. This isn't her domain."

"Nay," Addison began, swallowing and exhaling heavily. "I am so close to walking away from this office, from this practice and this town and never, never coming back. I don't know how to handle this. I can't handle this right now. At all. I've got a fever and it's getting worse, please don't make me leave. Okay?"

Naomi panicked for a moment; there was something in Addison's expression that seemed to indicate that she was very serious. She would walk out, away from everything; she was that close to the edge. "Okay...okay. Just...okay."

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><p>"You're not going anywhere, Violet," Naomi strode into Violet's office, catching her by the elbow and pulling her back towards her desk.<p>

"What do you mean, I'm not going anywhere? It's seven at night, we're the only ones here. This is the point where we go home to our miserable lives and pretend that we're independent, feminist women."

"You're not going home yet, we have a crisis and you're needed."

Violet rolled her eyes and slumped into her chair, tossing her handbag to the floor. "Why, why are all the crises at night? I could have a date you know, a date with the formidable Bill Clinton and my right hand."

"Firstly, over sharing," Naomi muttered, pushing some items across Violet's desk and sliding to sit on it. "And secondly, how long has it been since you've done Gynae?"

"Gynae? I'm a Psychiatrist Naomi, just in case you missed that memo over the last decade or so."

"Did you do an intern term or anything? Can you just be serious for two minutes," Naomi snapped, voice raised and fingers rubbing at her forehead.

"Okay, I can do that. What's going on?" Violet said calmly, leaning forward. When she received no response, she continued gently. "I actually did a little, I did a rotation as an intern and did a year of my residency in Obstetrics before I had my first abortion and changed my career plan. Why?"

"You need to help me do a d and c without anaesthetic."

Violet coughed and laughed lightly. "You need me to do what? I realise that we embrace the co-op idea but this might be crossing the line. Are you and Addison fighting again? She'll help."

"It's for Addison. And she's being very weird about it all and well, she chose you. And for the record, you wouldn't have been my choice."

"Thank you. I think. But hang on, for Addison? What she's not doing Gynae surgery these days? What have I missed? I don't think our indemnity insurance covers me doing any type of surgery."

Naomi shook her head and waved her hands in front of her. "Sorry, no. Addison has had a missed miscarriage, she needs a d and c and is having some melt down about it all and she has asked me to do it, which is fine. But it's not something I can just whip up alone, you know. And she's refusing to have an anaesthetic, because that would mean going to the hospital and theatre and she's wanting a cone of silence. And she chose you. Your guess is as good as mine as to why."

Violet nodded slowly, her mouth forming words before any sound came out. "Whoa," she eventually muttered. "Is she, I mean - she's obviously not okay."

"Well, she's spiked a temp which means she needs to do it tonight but other…"

"No," Violet interrupted, "that wasn't what I meant."

"Oh," Naomi responded, slowing down and looking at Violet. "She thinks it's her fault, because of her termination. She thinks she deserves this."

Violet nodded slowly. "And the limited egg, fertility issue thing. I'm surprised she's even functioning." Naomi nodded, letting her chin drop as tears welled in her eyes. "You okay?"

Shrugging her shoulders, Naomi said softly, "Every day we save someone, somehow. But ourselves - we're not so good at saving ourselves; or each other."

Violet nodded, reaching to linger her hand lightly on Naomi's shoulder. "Then let's go save one of us."

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><p>"So," Violet began, trying to keep her tone light. "I would like you to take note Addi, you've got me in scrubs." Addison forced a smile up at her, anxiously lying back while Naomi manoeuvred the ultrasound machine towards the bed. "And, there's no couch," she added, trying for the second time to slip her hand into Addison's, but again, it was rejected. Just pushed away as if holding on meant she was done, defeated.<p>

"Alright; I just need to do the ultrasound, get some details and then we can get this done, yeah?" Naomi asked softly. She looked nervous and on edge, taking slow and deliberate breaths to control the slight tremble in her hands.

Addison simply nodded, positioning the sheet over her pubic bone and raising the gown to expose her abdomen. She turned her head away as Naomi began the ultrasound, intently staring at the screen and tapping at the keyboard to capture measurements. "Sixteen weeks, five days," Naomi stated softly, "there's no heart beat." Addison blinked repeatedly, head turned and eyes fixated to the right of Violet. "You must have been further along than you thought." She didn't respond, just closed her fists around the gown that she clutched to her chest. Naomi and Violet glanced at each other, questioning glances thrown over the bed.

"So what now? What are the options, Naomi?"

"I can deliver," Addison answered, "just induce me."

"You need a hospital."

"No."

"Yes."

"No," Addison raised her voice and sat up. "If neither of you will do this then...then I can't stay here. I can't." She slid off the table, clutching the sheet with her. "I have never asked you…" she trailed off, voice catching in her throat and the anger dissipating quickly. "Let me go," she pleaded tearfully as Violet stood in front of her, two hands gripping her shoulders.

"I'm not the expert that either of you are," Violet began firmly. "I'm, you know, the eccentric therapist that tends to annoy people. So, I don't get to have an opinion here on the best treatment. But, I do know that walking out of here isn't such a great idea."

"Just let me go."

"Where Addi, where are you going?" Naomi asked.

"Please let me go," Addison repeated, staring weakly at Violet.

"Ummm," Violet responded, "no."

"No?"

"Let Naomi make this decision. She knows you and she knows what is best."

Addison's eyes flickered and she bit at her bottom lip. "Fine. Just let me go."

Naomi moved to stand behind Addison, wrapping her arms around her waist resting her chin on her shoulder. "No," she stated softly, "not a chance. This is the time to be a mess, remember?"

"I don't want to be a mess right now. I've cried, I'm done with crying. I just want this...this out."

"What is it; that you want out?" Violet asked gently.

Addison scowled. "You know what."

"Yeah, I know. But I want you to say it."

"Don't _psych_ me."

Violet smiled calmly, unfazed. Years of therapeutic work meant that her skills kicked in almost automatically; it was a detriment at times. She could slip so easily into the therapist role and lose touch with her own personality. And sometimes friends didn't need a professional, they just needed someone to be there and hate the world with them; not someone that was desperate to talk them around to accepting it. "It's a baby; your baby."

Addison's eyes clouded over and she tensed against Naomi's hold. "It's not anymore," she replied, holding on to bare remnants of control. "Can we get this done or am I going to walk out of here?"

"What I'm going to do," Naomi began, "is phone Charlotte and get an OR prepped with an Anaesthetist and admit you as a Jane Doe." Addison shook her head weakly but Naomi continued, unwavering in her decision. "This is the way it's going to happen. You'll be out by midnight, tucked up in bed with the two of us standing guard. You got that? And while I'm on the decision making roll, you're taking some time off, no arguments – even if I have to take you on a vacation to make sure of it."

Addison glanced up to Violet in a final, silent plea for intervention. It remained unanswered. "I told you, the experts make the decisions."

"Right, I'm going to go and make the calls. Vi, is going to make sure you don't run on us."

Violet nodded her agreement, hands still gripping Addison's shoulders as Naomi quietly slipped out of the room. They stared at each other momentarily, each trying to figure out what action to take, what to do next. It was Violet that moved first, releasing her hold for the first time to step forward. She drew Addison tightly against her, guiding her face towards her shoulder and wrapping her arms against her back. "You don't need to…" Addison whispered, her sentence trailing off.

"Naomi will never forgive me if you leave," Violet replied, smiling. "And hey, it's this or I offer you my closet – which I actually recommend. I like it there."

"You're hugging me so I don't run?"

"No – I'm hugging you because you need it, even if you think you don't. And the not running thing, that's an added bonus."

Addison nodded, silently allowing the tears that had been pooling in her lower lids to tumble down her cheeks. "How do I do this?"

Sighing, Violet tightened her hold with one arm wrapped around Addison's back and the other, gripping her ponytail between her shoulder blades. "You're already doing it."

The response was a chocked cry, a guttural and tortured sound that brought tears to Violet's eyes. Addison dipped her chin and pressed her forehead to Violet's clavicle, sobbing into the nape of her neck. Her body trembled and limply moulded against her colleague; the façade finally torn apart by grief.


	2. Chapter 2

_AN: Thanks for the reviews and comments, I appreciate it. :-) I hope you enjoy part 2, as well._

**Part 2**

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><p>They had stridden confidently through the main entrance to the hospital, through the maze of corridors and elevators until they reached theatre. Dressed in scrubs, they were just another team of hospital staff arriving for yet another surgery, yet another afterhours' procedure. It was almost a divide and conquer as Naomi discretely gave the preoperative information to the Anaesthetist, providing every detail from height and weight to allergies and previous surgeries. Simultaneously, Violet ushered Addison into the operating room and had her positioned and prepped, with her identity concealed as much as possible. She looked barely recognisable, lying motionless on the table; seemingly terrified at the sudden role reversal. She was gowned and covered loosely by a starch white sheet, hair hidden under a paper thin cap and without the flawless makeup; Addison certainly didn't resemble the confident, competent surgeon that paced the hospital corridors.<p>

Naomi had briefed the Anaesthetist, someone whom she knew but barely, as to the uniqueness of the case. She repetitively reinforced that this patient was not to be addressed or engaged with and that her identity would not be revealed. She reminded him of his hypocratic oath, I will keep secret and will never reveal. He had muttered a few curse words back at her then, as if she were questioning his moral and ethical standards without even knowing him. Naomi didn't flinch; he nodded and responded to her instruction. She was very clear, she was in charge.

By the time he was invited into the room, Addison was lying back, her arms dormant at her sides and head turned with eyes fixated on Violet. With some direction, Violet had connected the required monitors to her, a small attachment on her index finger that measured her heart rate and a blood pressure device wrapped around her arm. With significant coaching from Addison, she had even inserted a cannular into the back of her left hand; although with the hesitation and awkwardness, it was sure to display a deep purple bruise over the coming days.

To the Anaesthetist's credit, he simply entered the room, sat opposite Addison's line of vision and administered a relaxant. Watching the monitors carefully, he remained silent; his only slight glance towards the patient yielding little outcome as his eyes met a hair filled surgical cap and Violet's hand across her forehead.

Naomi spoke as if she were any other patient, although in this case it was for her benefit rather than the person lying fearfully on the table. It was almost as if she were talking herself into it, reminding herself of the details – this was hardly in her routine work these days. Years ago, yes, but now she spent more time implanting embryos than removing their failed conception. Sliding on the short, wheeled stool, Naomi manoeuvred herself to be next to Violet, both of their eyes fixated on Addison. Naomi gave a small nod and received the same in return. "Alright, as we discussed I'm going to dilate your cervix and then remove the contents of your uterus. I'm going to use a small instrument that scrapes at the lining and then removes the tissue. The procedure will only take about fifteen minutes and you'll wake up shortly after. So just take some deep breaths, the anaesthetic is being administered and you will just drift off to sleep."

It took only a few seconds for Addison's eyes to blink and then close; the magic of modern medicine. Naomi muttered a few indistinguishable terms, rolling back into position and gently going about performing the d and c. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, needing this," the Anaesthetist stated. "Whoever this is, she hardly needed anonymity."

Naomi continued to work, focus unwavering as she gave her rehearsed response. "Well, when you have a family member that works at this hospital and you hadn't disclosed your pregnancy, I suppose it's necessary. And the fact remains that this patient would have become very unwell had we not convinced her. And this, this has a good outcome for all involved." It was hopefully enough of a diversion, just a small untruth that would send his thoughts away from the Practice if his curiosity got the better of him. They had probably made it out to be more exciting than it was and she wondered if he would think about it and start talking to his colleagues. This way, if he did, then he would searching his mind for prominent staff with family members that had lives that were somewhat, misspent. Not friends and colleagues of the fiercely protective doctors that were present in the operating room. She hoped anyway.

He looked from Naomi to Violet and back again, sighing and settling back in to watch the monitors. He gave a small bolus at Naomi's request, keeping Addison under for a just few extra minutes as she worked at retrieving the foetus in its entirety. "A girl," she stated softly, placing the palm sized baby in a surgical dish. "There doesn't seem to be any obvious deformity or abnormality, although there's definitely tissue disintegration; looks like foetal demise was a week or two ago."

Violet gave a small nod, her thumb calmly running back and forth over Addison's forehead. Not that she could feel it, but if nothing else it made her feel as if she were doing something. Something other than sitting there, completely helpless. She hated that feeling and it gave her flashbacks to her intern year; there was nothing she disliked more than surgery. It was an incredible feeling to succeed, to save a limb or an organ; but there were so many times where they could only barely save a life and of course, the times where they couldn't. Surgeons were expected to play God, to perform miracles where they had no chance at achieving the impossible. Still, they so often tried. At least in her role, an outcome was barely expected and considered a bonus more than anything. People were deemed as responsible for their own mental health, a Psychiatrist was merely a helping hand in the process. What a different world she worked in, compared to Addison.

Naomi shook away her own uncertainty, the unsettled sickness that was lingering in her abdomen. She completed the procedure, going about the post operative Gynae processes as she had been trained to do. The thought never crossed her mind and she assumed that Violet was as oblivious as well, to the complete disregard to personal privacy. The office conversations were certainly testament to their relaxed approach to intimate disclosure, with regular mention of topics ranging from sexual positions to preferred methods of masturbation. But something like this, some might consider crossing the invisible line but they didn't consciously consider it an issue. Naomi simply went about removing the materials and stirrups, and adjusting Addison's position on the surgical bed. She placed a sanitary napkin between her legs, where the bleeding would continue to gradually slow over the coming days. Then she removed her gloves and carefully drew the gown back over Addison. She walked quickly to the side of the room and retrieved a blanket from the warmer and unfolded it, spreading it to cover her arms, legs and tucked under her cold feet. "You can go now," Naomi stated, watching Addison blink a few times before closing her eyes again. "She's waking up."

He nodded slowly, watching the monitors intently for a few seconds before standing. "You can page me if there's any problems; I'm here for a few hours yet."

He got to the door before Naomi raised her voice. "Thank you," she said with a small smile. "I do appreciate this."

"Not my usual request, but certainly not the strangest," he said quietly and shrugged before disappearing out the door. It swung gently back into place as Naomi went about discarding items, tidying the operating room and scrubbing her hands and forearms.

They both waiting patiently for Addison to wake fully, laughing gently as she asked three times how long she had been under. Each time she asked, words slurred, she drifted back to sleep for a minute or two. "Is it done?" she eventually asked; eyes hazy and bloodshot.

Naomi nodded. "Yeah, all done."

"Did it go okay?"

"Everything went fine; no complications, very routine."

"Okay," she muttered, exhaling with a prolonged blink.

"Can I go now?" she asked, the words drawn out and indistinct.

"When you can articulate words without sounding like you've had a martini or three, we'll go." Naomi responded with a smile, settling back on her stool and next to the bed. She reached her hand across and squeezed Addison's arm through the blanket, leaning on the side of the trolley. "You feeling okay? Not nauseous?" she asked.

Addison shook her head, "No, not really. Just cramping."

"That'll continue for a while, you can have some ibuprofen later, when you've had something to eat."

"I know," Addison responded softly, not a hint of anger in her voice.

"Sorry."

"Oh don't. I'm just agreeing with you."

"Addison?" Violet asked quietly after they had fallen into a comfortable silence for a few minutes. "Do you want to know anything about the baby? Any details?" Naomi threw her an alarmed look, questioning the suddenness of her question. But Violet simply nodded, her mind went so quickly to the psychological well being of people, to the emotional healing and in her mind, at that moment, the healing could begin with simple options and information. She had lived the aftermath of two abortions and if she was honest with herself, she still carried the scars of those choices, and they were choices. This wasn't. She had read all the material on the psychological effects of miscarriage and pregnancy loss, text books and current literature that pointed unequivocally to the potential long lasting effect of the loss. And for someone like Addison, a self contained perfectionist who already viewed herself as a failure in all areas of her life, other than her work, the potential emotional effect was undeniable.

Addison just shrugged, looking from Violet to Naomi and back again, as if trying to figure out if they were hiding something. "I don't know," she answered. "Should I?"

"No," Naomi responded quickly, "not at all."

"It's not about whether you should or not," Violet continued. "And don't feel like you have to, at all. I just want you to know that you can ask whatever you want, whenever you want."

"What if I asked you to do some DNA analysis and genetic testing?" Addison asked, showing a brief genuine smile and sense of humour, her eyes already starting to clear.

"Well," Violet laughed carefully, "I would remind you that I had to sit a supplementary in college for genetics and then, I would refer you to Naomi for a level of conversation that would do my head in."

"And then I would probably have to sneak back to the office and have a quick review of a text or two," Naomi added. "Although seriously," she said, continuing after a prolonged silence, "is that something that you want?"

Addison shrugged again. "Not really. I mean it's hardly our normal course of action; it isn't like this has happened before. I don't know. My head is a bit all over the place." Their conversation was stilted, long silences between questions and comments, all of them lost in their own thoughts and self reflections, not just Addison.

"There didn't seem to be anything obvious Addi – it's possible you wouldn't get any answers anyway."

"Sometimes it just happens, we all know that," Addison stated, starting to shift slightly in the bed. "I don't want to make it out to be more than it is."

"So then, you'll allow yourself to grieve in the same way we would allow our patients?" Violet questioned.

Addison rolled her eyes. "Yeah yeah, something like that. Don't we go with the philosophy of do as we say, not as we do? It's not like you two are the picture of effective coping."

"Hey, I take offense to that," Naomi said lightly. "And since you're clearly coming out of the anaesthetic alright, all this arguing and all – how about we sit you up and see if you can stomach some food, have some analgesia and head home."

Addison shrugged, pushing herself up on her elbow and sitting upright before Violet could adjust the bed. "I don't want anything, just some water," she commented, again rolling her eyes as Violet pushed gently on her shoulder until she rested back. "And there wasn't any excessive bleeding or anything, Nay?"

Naomi shook her head slightly at the quick change in topic, taking a second to respond as she adapted to the thought process. "No," she responded. "Everything was standard, you were definitely further along than you thought and there was no way that you were going to miscarry naturally."

"You didn't…there weren't any significant lining abrasions?"

Naomi smiled. "No Addison, there should be minimal scarring. I didn't use a kitchen knife you know."

"Sorry – again. I'm not challenging or…I don't know, I just wanted to check. I trust you."

"We really make terrible patients," Violet tossed in, crossing the room to fill a small plastic cup with water. "Terrible," she added as she handed it over.

"Can I ask," Addison began hesitantly, pausing to take a long gulp at the liquid. "Was it a boy or a girl?"

Naomi drew in a breath, finding her hand and entwining their fingers. "A girl," she answered simply.

Addison nodded. "I'm okay," she insisted, although her hand remained stationary and she allowed Violet to tuck pieces of hair behind her ears, the surgical cap discarded to the floor when she had woken. "Do you still have her?"

Violet nodded as she answered, "Yes."

"Can I see her?" Addison asked, her eyes fixated on Naomi although it was Violet that continued to respond.

"Of course."

"Should I, Nay?"

Naomi found herself reluctantly drawn in and the truth was, she didn't know. She knew academically, as well as Violet did, that the need to have something to bond with or to hold on to, didn't disappear just because the sight wasn't pretty or peaceful. Cognitively, she knew that it would help Addison to make sense and find meaning; that it would answer questions that would come in the following weeks, months, years. That it would make her feel as if she had done anything and everything that she could. But still, an incredibly emotional and protective part of her wanted to walk away, with her best friend tucked under her arm and away from the sight of the perfectly formed but desperately underdeveloped foetus that remained in the small kidney dish. She just didn't have the answers. So, whispering, she responded, "I don't know. I don't have the answers." She was out of options, honesty was all she had.

Violet nodded her approval at the response and Addison continued to search Naomi's eyes for confirmation. "I think I should."

Naomi nodded slowly, her breathing suddenly shallow. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Naomi slipped her hand away and stood, taking a few slow steps to a metal utensil trolley that she had previously pushed to the opposite side of the room. "We're right here," Violet insisted, taking the empty cup out of Addison's hand.

Naomi returned, holding the dish in her open palm until she stood on the opposite side to Violet. She slowly lowered her arm until she could lay her hand on Addison's lap, her knuckles resting against her blanket covered thigh. Addison just stared, unblinking into the small dish, her mouth slightly ajar. "Breathe," she heard Violet instruct and had some awareness of Naomi keeping physical contact with her. A hand that rubbed at her shoulder and arm, through her hair and against the back of her neck.

Minutes passed and Addison remained immobilised, fixated on the suddenly tangible loss that she had been struggling to conceptualise. It was there in front of her, the transparent and clot covered evidence of her failure. She wanted out. "I want to go home."

Naomi hesitated, her cheeks wet with tears and although she mouthed a few words, there was nothing audible. Violet reacted first, taking the dish off Naomi and walking it to the clinical waste area. She blinked back her own tears, watching the wall for a few moments before turning back. "I'm so sorry," Naomi whispered, her forehead pressed into Addison's hair. "You deserved that little girl."

Addison caught the emotion in her throat, emitting a short, low gasp. She nodded, tears tracking down to her chin and leaving wet, salty marks on her pale skin. "Take me home."


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Thanks for the continued reviews. All feedback appreciated and welcomed.

**Part 3**

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><p>"Asleep," Violet said, grinning. "Words cannot describe the magic of diazapam."<p>

"You got her to take diaz? You are good," Naomi responded, leaning back on the sofa with her feet outstretched and resting on the coffee table.

"Not exactly take. More like how you would give medication to a cat."

Naomi laughed. "You hid it and then tapped her neck to get her to swallow?"

"Just the hiding part. It's not like she was going to sleep without it; that said, maybe we shouldn't mention it to her. Just in case." Violet crossed the room and sat next to Naomi, running her hands through her tangled hair and resting her head back. "So what's the plan?"

"Plan? We need a plan?"

"Well, I'm not thinking a detailed plan at this hour, but she's going to wake up tomorrow and you probably need a plan."

"I do? Why me?"

"Really? You need to ask? I know it's the early hours of the morning but still..."

"Yeah yeah. I don't know, she's going to wake up and want to go back to work and pretend everything is fine. Then we'll find her sitting in her office staring into space or she'll get emotionally involved in some distantly related case. Then she'll probably get blindly drunk and do something she'll regret and six or twelve months down the track she'll rock up at my door in a flood of tears and wonder where it all went wrong." Naomi sighed. "Have I mentioned I'm exhausted?" she added sarcastically.

"Just once or twice but seriously, that was scaringly accurate. Clairvoyant like. Which is why – you need a plan," Violet insisted, hand gesturing in the air in small circles.

"I have no idea. Do I book some flights and take her away for a while? Or do I try to get her to just stay in the house for a week? Do we try and get her to speak with a therapist? She won't want to speak about this ever again, you know that right?"

Violet nodded slowly. "Until she drowns herself in a bottle or two of Shiraz. Which for the record, I'm not completely against but perhaps, you should be encouraging a slightlier healthier method of coping."

They sat quietly for a few minutes, eyes drifting closed and being forced open again. "It has been a very average day, hasn't it?" Naomi eventually muttered.

"I hated seeing the baby," Violet admitted, her voice soft and hesitant. "Every time I close my eyes, I see it. How you two do your jobs is beyond me."

"It's different," Naomi stated, "when it's someone you know. It's so much easier with patients. It doesn't make sense sometimes, one of the great ironies in life. People who would make the best parents are the ones who never manage to have children, all the time while addicts can breed like rabbits. You would think being a fertility specialist, I would have made my peace with that by now."

"It's not every day you hold the dead foetus of your closest friend, I suppose."

Naomi coughed awkardly at the harsh phrasing, although it were true. Violet had a way of saying things, just as they were; without the sugar coating. "I hope we did the right thing, showing Addison."

"We did," Violet answered confidently. "It would have been worse if we had refused, what her mind would have imagined would have been so much more than the reality. I'm not sure I would have had the strength to ask, like she did."

"Me neither," Naomi said in agreeance. "Mind you, I would have been a blubbering mess. I was bad enough, just watching her."

"Which is okay, you know that right? She needs to know that it's alright to be angry or sad or whatever it is she's feeling. And you showed her that."

"She didn't tell me that she was pregnant. We never would have kept something like that secret."

"And that bothers you? It upsets you that she didn't tell you?"

Naomi shrugged, "I don't know. I'm just tired, I think. This has to be about Addi, not me."

"I can stay if you want?" Violet offered. "I was going to go home but I can stay."

"No," Naomi said, shaking her head. "You need to go to the office tomorrow, I'm not sure what you should tell the boys."

"I think the truth," Violet started before Naomi interrupted, strongly shaking her head. "Not the whole truth," she continued, rolling her eyes. "I just meant that I tell them Addison had to have a medical procedure but it's important to her that it's kept quiet. And that you'll be having the week off as well; I'll get Dell to work some magic with the schedule. Don't worry about anything, I'll sort it. Just let me know if you're leaving the country."

"Thank you Vi, really. Thank you."

"Call anytime," Violet offered, hugging Naomi tightly. "Okay?"

Naomi nodded, smiling weakly as she watched Violet gather her bag and disappear out the front door of Addison's house. She forced herself to walk up the stairs and silently open Addison's bedroom door, casting her eyes over the sleeping form, before retreating back down the stairs and curling up on the sofa. She draped herself in a soft knitted throw blanket and with her head resting comfortably on a cushion, was asleep in minutes.

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><p>Addison stood stationary in front of the coffee machine, wet hair tucked behind her ears and hands folded together in the pockets of her hoodie. She waited patiently for the coffee to flow out of the nozzle, barefeet poking out from the bottom of the faded blue jeans she had put on after her shower. "Sorry, was in need of coffee," she said, turning her head at the sound of Naomi stirring. "You want one?"<p>

"God yes," Naomi answered, standing up and rearranging her clothes.

"Why didn't you sleep in the spare room?"

"I don't know, I thought I would be a bit more alert down here. If you needed anything."

"I think I slept for ten hours – weird." Addison shrugged, replacing one coffee mug with another, and again, waiting patiently for it to fill.

"Mmmm," Naomi nodded, "It's good you did. How are you doing?"

Addison's eyes drifted off momentarily, losing focus as she disappeared for a few seconds into a horrid memory. She shrugged again. "Okay."

"In pain?"

"A little, nothing too bad."

"Want some breakfast and pain killers? I brought drugs from the office."

"I'm not really hungry."

"Yet, you're going to eat," Naomi insisted, although it was hard to take her seriously with erratic hair and smudged make up.

"How about, I have a coffee while you have a shower then I might feel like something to eat." Addison exuded logic, though it was more of a delay tactic. "I should call the office, they'll be wondering where we are."

"Taken care of already," Naomi answered. "Violet was going in today and," she clicked at buttons on her phone, "Sam, Coop and Pete have all sent a _get well_ text."

Addison looked panicked for a moment, eyes wide and head shaking. "Violet didn't tell them..."

"No, of course not. We decided she would say that you had to have a medical procedure and we're both out of the office for the week. So it's all done, what you tell them is up to you Addi."

"Oh okay. That's okay, I guess."

"They had to be told something, you don't just take a week off without any notice for no reason. They know you."

"Yep," Addison agreed softly. "So, coffee," she said, holding out a cup which Naomi took gratefully. "Just raid my closet for some clothes. I would suggest you go home, but I'm guessing you won't entertain that idea."

"Not a chance. Besides, you have a much better wardrobe than I do."

"Go; shower." Addison muttered, rolling her eyes. Naomi knew her way around that house almost as well as she did. The number of evenings that she had fallen asleep in the lounge room or drank too much to drive home, were too many to count. Addison let her mind drift to their college days, it was easier to reminisce than to sit in the moment. She remembered so clearly their wild nights out, dancing their way through to daylight and then stumbling back to campus, laughing arm-in-arm. Then they would disect the evening, piece by piece. Who they had each danced with, who had bought them a drink and who they had kissed and deposited their phone number with. Later, when they became settled with Derek and Sam, then their conversations changed. They talked about love and sex; they talked about the future. What their weddings would look like, how their lives would work out. When they would take a break from their career to have children.

Addison shook the thought away. Was her every thought going to end the same way now? Would every memory end with the same sad conclusion – that everything she hoped and wished for in her life had fallen apart?

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><p>"So, let me get this straight,' Pete started slowly, learning over the table in the kitchen, eyes boring into Violet's where she sat opposite him, coffee mug clutched in both hands. Sam and Cooper stood either side of him, hands on their hips and eyes narrowed. "Addison is off sick...for a week, without any notice and Naomi is, what? Taking care of her?"<p>

"Mmmm, yep," Violet said, nodding.

"Because she had a _procedure_?" Cooper asked, slowly.

"Yep."

"And she's okay?" Sam confirmed.

"Yep."

"Why do we get the idea that you're not telling us the full story here, Violet?" Pete muttered.

"Because I'm not, obviously," Violet responded, mildly irritated by the inquisition. She had only managed a few hours sleep, knowing that she had to be at the Practice on time and with an explanation ready. But the questions had been occuring on and off since she had walked through the door, and now she was simply trying to have her after lunch coffee and still, the same questions were being fired at her. She knew their interest was because they cared, but still, at some point this office had to learn the art of respect. "But you need to understand that Addison needs some time. She's very clear that she doesn't want everyone to know and we need to just let her be."

"But we're not everyone, Violet; we're her colleagues and friends. Exactly as you are," Sam seemed the most taken aback, as if he couldn't comprehend that he wasn't involved or perhaps needed.

"You need to stop," Violet stated firmly, yet edged with exasperation and tiredness. "This isn't about any of you, so just leave things be for once. This isn't some gossip to pass around, okay? Addison has had some surgery, she needs some time to recover and then she wants to come back to work. She deserves your respect and support but not your questions and desperate need to be involved in everything."

They all stared at Violet and slowly nodded, filing one by one out of the kitchen. It was only Cooper that stopped momentarily, squeezing Violet's forearm with his hand. "After work; trashy television, take out Chinese and a martini – your place or mine?"

Violet breathed a sigh of relief. "Mine, Coop. And make that a double martini."

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><p>tbc...<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: **_I had this written up, so thought I would post it. It's one long conversational scene – which I hope isn't too boring to read! Thanks to everyone who is still reading, it's an enjoyable fic to write. Also, I apologise in advance for any typos/errors in this part, I've proofread but it's late, so my editing ability may be a little compromised. All constructive feedback welcome and appreciated._

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><p><strong>Part 4<strong>

The view through the solid glass doors and over Addison's back deck was strikingly beautiful. With the sun gradually dipping lower in the sky, a kelaedoscope of yellow and orange danced across the horizon. Naomi was curled up in the corner of the sofa, slowly sipping on a glass of merlot although Addison, at the opposite end, held only a glass of water.

"You know I'm a control freak", Addison offered as an explanation for her non alcoholic choice.

"Control?" Naomi asked, eyebrows narrowed in confusion. Not that she disagreed or disapproved of her choice not to drink, it was just surprising. It had been a long time since she had seen Addison decline a glass of wine particularly in the midst of a crisis.

Addison laughed gently and didn't elaborate, just allowing her gaze to return to the slow sunset. They had been sitting there for hours, distractedly watching a poorly performed midday movie and flicking absentmindedly through magazines. Addison had slept briefly throughout the afternoon, drifitng to sleep for a few minutes before rousing suddenly and repeating the cycle. "I certainly didn't get these views in Seattle or New York," she said after a long silence.

"It is spectacular," Naomi agreed. "I'm not sure I've ever asked but are you pleased you decided to move here?"

Addison nodded slowly. "Yeah, I guess so. I couldn't have stayed, I don't think. I couldn't have done what you and Sam did."

"Probably wasn't our finest decision. It was hard, the first year. Still is, I guess."

"It's weird I think, to go from having a husband to not having one. There's some automatic security that happens with having a partner; you know someone will show up if you need them to – it's like they have to, even if they don't want to."

Naomi nodded. "Yeah, I often wonder who's name I would put down if I was being admitted to hospital or something. Who would be my next of kin."

Addison laughed lightly. "I went to a family practice a couple of months ago, just to get some tests done and I gave your name as my emergency contact. How depressing, I'm in my forties and completely alone."

"You and I both – I'm hardly going to put Sam. Besides, I would be far more reliable than any man, husband or not."

Addison smiled and nodded. "You are. Very," she stated softly, shaking away the negative dialogue that suddenly forced itself into her mind. At any opportunity it seemed the self loathing exploaded inside of her; as soon as she had a moment of reflection, it was there, flashing across her vision. "Sometimes I wonder, how I got here," she eventually conceded, wide eyes glancing quickly at Naomi and then back to the darkness that was deepening outside.

Naomi let the words linger for just a moment and then calmly asked, "Here?"

"Yeah, here," Addison said, shifting her position to lean back on the lounge with her feet outstretched in front of her, slippered feet resting on the coffee table. "How did I end up with a failed marriage, a string of meaningless affairs and nothing to show for it, just a decent career and financial security? I'm not sure that's what I ever wanted, was it?"

"I don't think any of us go into a marriage or a relationship expecting it to fail. I certainly didn't."

"But you have Maya. You have something so good, something amazing to show for your marriage. And you built an incredible business, with loyal friends. You do connections Nay, I'm not sure I do."

"So I must have imagined this twenty odd year friendship, yeah?" Naomi pressed lightly.

Addison sighed heavily, answering, "Because of you, because you have the patience to put up with me. The months I went without calling or emailing; there were times that I didn't even answer your messages. I just...I fail at anything that doesn't involve a scalpel in my hand, that's the truth. The reality of my life."

"Firstly, there were just as many times when I didn't get around calling you and let's face it, my ability to ask for what I need is a serious character flaw. I know and I always knew, that you will be right next to me in an instant, if I ask." Addison opened her mouth to argue, to debate the innapropriateness of _needing to ask_, but Naomi rushed to continue. "Secondly, what is it that you've failed at Addi? A marriage with a man who you had a relationship with, based solely on the fact that you should have been together, that it was expected or it should have worked? You and Derek, you looked good on paper, you made a good story but it wasn't that simple. You might have cheated first, but he was hardly perfect. Don't think I didn't see the way he made you feel less than him, because I did. We all want our marriages to look perfect to the world, but they seldom are."

"But it was my fault." The statement was so brief yet so strong. No context was going to sway the self blame. "Everything has been my fault."

Naomi again let the silence sit between them, sipping quietly at the red liquid slowly emptying her glass. "This; this wasn't your fault," she eventually said softly and deliberately.

Addison didn't respond immediately, just stood and walked into the kitchen and returned with an empty glass. She reached out and gripped the wine bottle by the neck, tipping it hurriedly until wine tumbled out and into the glass, splatters of the crimson liquor spilling onto the floor and table. "You don't know that," she said, releasing her clenched jaw to mutter the words and take a long continuous gulp.

"And what is it, that you did?"

"I screwed up, I had another chance and I screwed it up." Addison's words were rushed and etched with anger. She was so frustrated with herself and her inability to do what was required of her, the basic and innate feminine role that crossed species and millions of years.

"Mmmm," Naomi nodded calmly, slowing her voice and reducing the volume to try and subtly deminish Addison's resentment. "I get that this pregnancy didn't succeed, okay, I get that. But what is it that _you_ screwed up? How are _you _responsible?"

"Because...because I left it too late. Because I didn't have a baby when, when I had the chance and I kept it a secret and I questioned Nay, I questioned whether I should even do it. And then I wanted to but then I didn't know how to...I didn't even know how to tell you or anyone else. And because I thought that something would go wrong; it always does. Who thinks that? Who has a child growing inside of them, who has wanted a baby for so long; what kind of person questions then? What kind of person expects to fail?" She shook her head in disbelief. "I did; I just thought that I would screw this up and I did. It shouldn't be a surprise, it shouldn't be anything. I expected this. Everything I want, it always screws up." The words tumbled out and phrases mixed in to one another; a rush of complicated thoughts and concepts that hadn't quite been thought through enough to be articulated coherently. Naomi simply nodded her acknowledgement of the monologue, focusing on leaning forward to refil her own glass, stopping to draw a tissue out of a box sitting next to the sofa to absorb the drops of wine. Addison swallowed multiple times in succession, the thin lip of the glass pressed to her mouth. "Drink myself into oblivion," Addison muttered, snatching the bottle, "it was my first instinct, not sure why I resisted."

"There's a lot of things, that I don't know but I do know you, Addi. And I know that you would do nothing, absolutely nothing, with the intention of harming anyone or anything."

Addison gave a sarcastic half laugh and stated, "Other then abort an innocent feotus."

Naomi shook her head. "Ever since I've known you, you've worked at convincing me and anyone else you came across, that having a termination is one of the most selfless decisions a woman can make. How come you have different rules for yourself?"

"I don't know. I don't understand any of this, I just feel..." Addison trailed off, glass already half empty.

"Feel what? Finish your sentence Addison, you don't need to filter."

"But I don't know," Addison responded, meeting Naomi's eyes. "I have no idea how I feel. I'm so lost, Nay. I'm so...something, I've never felt like this."

"I think Violet would call it _grieving_."

"I hate it. I hate this." Addison held on to the anger although they both knew it was only because it was an easier emotion to manage than sadness. Sometimes pain is just too intense, it rips at the soul until you feel like you'll disintegrate. Just disappear into a void. "I just want to turn back time and make sure this never happened. Put a bloody condom on him, how stupid was I?"

"And if we had a magic wand, sure. But we don't."

"Who's stupid plan is this? It's cruel. Tell me that I can't have children, that there's no hope only to give me some fluke miracle and then take it away anyway." Her voice broke slightly but she washed the emotion down with another refill; the empty bottle discarded to the floor.

Naomi nodded. "It's not fair," she said softly.

"No," Addison said shaking her head, "it's not fair. None of this is fair." She pushed her palm into the arm of the sofa and breathed heavily, trying to contain her misplaced anger. "I just feel _pissed off_."

"And hurt. Sad."

"Yeah well, it doesn't change anything." Her words had a slight slur to them, the hastedly consumed wine on an empty stomach having the desired effect. Though the outcome was less a feeling of relaxation and more the inability to compartmentalise her thoughts and emotions.

"It's okay to be upset."

"But that's it, I don't want to be upset."

Naomi smiled. "It's not a matter of wanting to Addi."

"You don't understand – I want to hit something. I want to throw something, I was to smash every thing that I can find in this house, into a million pieces." She escalated quickly, hands curled into tight fists and punching repeatedly at her thighs. Naomi moved cautiously, lowering her feet to the floor and reaching out to place her hand on Addison's arm. She recoiled, her breathing sharp and rapid. The empty bottle of wine was in her hand and thrown across the room before Naomi had a chance to intervene. It happened so quickly, as if in one swift motion until it fell from her grip; and then time stood still. The bottle drifting through the air, tumbling in a slight arc and meeting the wall with a large thud. It caught the edge of a photo frame, knocking the frame to the floor. The glass shattered, splinters spreading wildly and remnants of wine immediately evident on the walls, a stark contrast to the perfect white. Addison covered her mouth with trembling hands as her eyes widened and stared unblinking at mess. The noise of the glass smashing was so sudden and brief, but the silence that followed seemed emptier somehow. Frightening and empty. "I'm sorry," Addison whispered, her voice barely audible.

Naomi just moved close to her, one hand on her back and the other gripping her hands and pulling them away from her mouth. "Feel better?" she asked quietly.

Eyes still wide eyed, Addison nodded. "A little."

"We have to drink another before you can go again," Naomi said softly, rubbing her back and entwining their fingers. Addison gave a small smile in response, tears pooling in her eyes. "Maybe we'll go white this time; that's going to be a bitch to repaint."

With a relieved and tearful chuckle, Addison shook her head as if in disbelief and droppred her ear to Naomi's shoulder. "Don't go. Okay?"


	5. Chapter 5

_AN: I'm currently on an overseas trip for a month so won't be updating too much, but this reasonably lengthy part was a result of an initial 40 hours of transiting from Australia to Iceland – which gave plenty of time to write! This fic is slowly drawing to a conclusion though, so maybe only a part or two to go…or three…I have a bit of trouble letting go of fics that I'm enjoying writing! Lol _

_Thanks to all those reading and reviewing._

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><p>Sam stood at the glass sliding door, leaning against the wall and pulling the curtain edge away with his fingertips. He could see Addison clearly, sitting on a sun lounger out on her deck, staring at the dark sky. Naomi came out a couple of times, seeming to check on her or to bring her water or magazines; but each time she disappeared back inside. He watched Addison intently, observing her untie her clearly unkempt hair and rake her fingers through before scooping it back up and roughly wrapping the elastic back around a loose ponytail. She would kick her feet out in front of her and then draw them back up; each action lasting only a minute and then she would try a different position. She checked her phone, clicking at buttons – checking her email and text messages he presumed, but then the phone would return to sit on the chair next to her thigh. She tapped her fingers and stretched her neck, flicked through a few pages of a magazine and then tossed it to the ground. She checked her phone again.<p>

After watching for almost ten minutes, Sam reached into the pocket of his jeans and drew out his phone. _Just checking that you're okay,_ he typed in and sent.

He smiled as Addison immediately picked up her phone, imagining the slight vibration of the phone having indicated his message went through. It was something random that he knew about her, that whenever she wanted a break or needed a time out, she switched her phone to silence. He could never understand why she didn't just turn it off and he had never bothered to ask her. He surprised himself sometimes, by the little facts that he knew about Addison; things that he had picked up over the years and remembered. Like she hated the smell of hospital soap and she always kept her favourite brand of hand cream in her bag that she used as soon as she finished in theatre. _I'm fine, thanks. _

He internally debated the notion of replying for a few moments, reading the three simple words over and over again. _I hope Naomi is making a good nurse,_ he eventually typed back.

_Of course. But seriously, I hope no one's worrying. I'm fine._

_You look bored,_ he sent, ducking his head back in when Addison lifted her head and searched her line of vision, looking up towards his balcony and down to his deck.

_I make a cr__ap patient and are you stalking me?_

_Sorry. But if you need anything, let me know._ He watched her tap at her phone and slip it in to her pocket, slowly manoeuvring herself off the chair and walking back inside. She gave a small wave towards his house before she disappeared from his view.

* * *

><p>That night was more difficult than the first. Hour after hour she watched the clock, tossing and turning under the duvet. She tried watching television but the infomercials just made her more frustrated with her inability to sleep. The few times she drifted into a semi-conscious slumber, she was jerked back into awareness by horrid images that blurred with reality. It was a cross between dreams and a vivid imagination, that moment in between sleep and wake where the boundaries are unclear. She saw the foetus in her lap, lying in the small dish exactly as had happened after her surgery. But so quickly her mind played tricks with her, the baby seeming to gasp for breath and blink its unformed eyelids. She jerked awake, heart racing and breathing shallow. She pushed the images aside and slipped out of bed, walking the familiar path to her ensuite bathroom with only the slight glow of moon. The bleeding continued and she knew that it would for days, although it had already slowed to just a light flow. But each time she went to the bathroom, the dark crimson fluid reminded her of what she had experienced; what she had lost. It was another cruel way for nature to remind her that she was no longer pregnant. The <em>absence<em> of bleeding, characteristic of the pregnancy was so suddenly gone.

It was the first indication, just over three months earlier that she might be pregnant. But she had let it go, convinced that it was just her messed up reproductive system playing tricks on her. She hadn't dared hope. She was almost seven weeks before she took a pregnancy test; retrieved from the storeroom at the office and held impatiently in her fingertips as she leant against the inside of the stall door. The positive result was still a surprise; she had put so much effort and energy into preparing herself for the negative. She had taken another test that evening and yet again two days later. It wasn't until that point that she performed an ultrasound and listened to the heartbeat of the tiny embryo.

Having performed countless ultrasounds and given good news as well as the most devastating, she thought that it would all be so routine. That she would remain detached. But she didn't and she could still recall the feeling in her stomach when she watched the slight movement on the screen and the sound of the formed and beating heart. She had become frozen, just staring and listening for minutes; the realisation that she had, by a random act of nature, achieved the very thing that seemed impossible.

Yet, she didn't tell anyone; didn't whisper a word to either a stranger or to her best friend. Her relationship with Kevin had already faltered and he had disappeared into the void, where all relationships go after the good turns to bad. And she couldn't shake the nagging feeling in the back of her mind; that everything good in her life screws up. Even as the weeks ticked by and the constant nausea subsided; she still couldn't put herself on the line. How could she tell everyone? Then she would have to tell them that she had failed again. So many times she had disclosed her inadequacies, came clean to the indiscretions and held the shame deep inside of her. But it had eaten away behind the façade, chipped at her self confidence and self belief until all that remained inside, was a frightened, abandoned little girl. She was suddenly that child again, whose father had all but walked away and her mother, seemingly bitterly unhappy, had disengaged from her family. The feeling of isolation is so much more, than just being lonely.

And just when she was starting to show, the small yet acutely detectable roundness of her usually flat stomach carefully hidden beneath loose blouses, everything changed. Just when she was preparing to share her news, something indescribable and so difficult to pinpoint happened. And she still couldn't put words to it…how do you portray a feeling or an instinct? How do you depict the feeling of falling when you're feet are still firmly on the ground?

Each experience; each stage; each fearful internal conversation repetitively replayed itself in her mind, in the dark hours of the morning when there were no distractions.

And having the same negative thoughts track around her head for hours on end also meant the tears came at will. All it took was one thought and thick, salty tears tumbled down her cheeks until she wiped them away, fumbling on her bedside table for a tissue or rolling lumps of toilet paper to blow at her nose. At 3am, she took her exhausted body and puffy eyes out of bed and padded down the stairs. She was tired and irrational, and desperately needed something to distract her. A survey of the pantry yielded no inspiration; equally, the fridge was virtually bare. She tried the freezer but the only items were a bottle of gin and some old frozen vegetables, likely there since she moved in and had wild thoughts of actually preparing and cooking dinners. It was concerning, her house seemed to hold more alcohol than food; although it was hardly surprising. She either ate at the hospital or picked something up on the way home from work and on the rare occasion that she was compelled to cook; she went to the supermarket and bought the required ingredients. She hardly needed a stocked pantry. But right now, sliding to the floor and curling up in the corner against the kitchen cupboards and with tears running down her cheeks, she would kill for anything remotely decadent.

"Addison?" Naomi asked, suddenly appearing as she rubbed at her eyes.

"There's no food in this house, not a skerrick of chocolate or icecream," Addison responded dramatically, hands gesturing and eyes glassed over.

No," Naomi shook her head, "that's because this is your house not mine. And it's three in the morning Addi, what are you doing rummaging through the kitchen?"

Addison shook her head, wiping at her cheeks with her fingertips. "I can't sleep," she declared after a few moments of sniffling.

Naomi smiled. "Really? Now that's surprising…" she responded sarcastically. Addison looked up at her briefly, meeting her eyes and then bowing her head back to her knees. "Come on then – the floor is cold and well, I'm not sure when your cleaner was last here," Naomi said, reaching and taking both of Addison's hands, gently coaxing her to her feet.

Addison slumped onto the couch, folding her body forward and wrapping her arms around her head protectively. "I can't do this," she croaked out. "I don't want to do this anymore."

"You're too hard on yourself Addi; you need to give yourself time," Naomi said softly, sitting down and patting her lap, indicating for Addison to lay her head down.

Addison shrugged and untangled herself to lie on the sofa, slowly turning on to her back and resting against Naomi's legs. "What is time going to achieve really? It doesn't change anything, what's the point in losing the plot when the outcome isn't going to be changed?" The words were resilient and logical yet the croaked voice and continuous soft crying betrayed her.

Naomi sighed, her hand automatically playing with strands of Addison's hair, twisting it around her fingers. "Because your mind and your body will do it anyway, you know that. You can't just shut this stuff out, it always comes back to bite us in the arse."

"Yeah, but I hate who I am at the moment Nay. I hate this depressed, negative person. It's not who I want to be."

"You're not depressed Addison; you're _grieving_," Naomi insisted.

"I had this thought before, that…well, that it wouldn't matter if I died. It's not like I want to kill myself, I'm not suicidal; but it's more like I just don't care. No one would miss me, no one desperately needs me. And this space, thinking like this…" she trailed off, her thoughts fragmented and delivered awkwardly. Her sentences didn't flow naturally and the words were either rushed to muttered, as if saying them aloud made them more important or real.

Naomi didn't try to respond quickly, though she felt almost nauseous at the disclosure. Ambivalence towards life was something she had never seen in her best friend before and it scared her, but not as much as the thoughts were clearly frightening Addison. "It's not a nice place to be, at all."

Addison shook her head and said softly, "No."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, neither trying to seek eye contact but remaining unmoving. "You know you can talk to me, right?" Naomi eventually asked. "You don't have to keep everything in your head. I won't judge, I won't be shocked or anything like that. I hate that you feel alone."

Addison fought an internal battle; there was a part of her that just wanted to blurt out every damaging thought that was constantly racing around her mind but even the idea of articulating the words seemed to steal her breath away. She was never one to be anxious at the thought of speaking, even when it was about herself. But suddenly, the truth was betraying her – with her heart rate doubling and her lungs seemingly unable to regulate the inhalation and exhalation of air. And with the anxiety came the tears; as if she hadn't cried enough. She was irrational and she had an awareness of that; but the thought that the only people she had left might start leaving her if she wasn't managing. If she needed them – really needed them; then they would walk away. So she gave the only response she could, she shrugged and said, "I don't know."

"You don't know if you can talk to me?"

"No," Addison shook her head. "I know I can, it's just me. I feel so screwed up."

"I want to actually understand what you're going through, not just guess all the time. But I can't, if you don't open your mouth and tell me," Naomi insisted carefully, her voice soft and quiet.

"I don't know how to, Nay," Addison replied quietly. "I've always told you everything; even when I knew that you didn't agree with what I was doing or saying – I still always wanted you to know. And I don't understand what has changed. I don't understand why I'm so…I don't know…why I feel like I'm completely falling apart. I'm constantly trying not to cry or curl up in a ball and go all foetal. It's just taking so much to stay in control."

Naomi nodded her understanding. "And it's important to stay in control…because?" she asked gently.

Addison seemed to hesitate. "I don't know," she responded carefully. "I just don't know anything. It's hardly news that I'm a control freak though."

"Well," Naomi began, "your wall over there, is covered in red wine and the world didn't suddenly end, did it? I'd say that was a bit of a loss of control and you didn't self destruct and I didn't freak out or anything."

"I never said it made sense, I know I'm being frustrating."

"I'm just trying to help Addi, I don't know what it is you need. But I know that we have always talked about the big stuff and that's what makes us, us. And you, well, you always talk and it worries me that this time, you're not. I'm just worried, that's all. I love you and I'm worried."

Addison nodded tearfully, reaching her hand in the air to seek out Naomi's and then gripping it against her chest. "I'm not suicidal," she muttered.

Naomi nodded slowly. "But you are struggling."

Nodding, Addison replied, "I just can't imagine anything good ever happening."

"So what's the point in still trying?"

"Yeah, I just keep thinking that I'm not good enough. That's why all this crap keeps happening."

"Some things are in your control and some things aren't…"

"I've failed. My life has been one failure after another."

"You are not a failure, do you hear me?"

"I feel like a failure. Like I've failed at everything real; everything that actually meant something. What's the point in being this brilliant surgeon? It doesn't matter, it's nothing."

Naomi wanted to insist, over and over again, that she wasn't a failure. But she had tried that before and it didn't seem to have any impact. Instead, she simply gripped Addison hand tightly and said, "I know that you are not a failure, you are so much more. But it doesn't matter what I think, it matters what you think."

"And I think that I have messed so much up. How many chances have I ruined? I think I'm out of second chances. I just can't believe that I'm here, that it's all gone. I had a chance, why didn't it work out this time? When do I get a turn at being happy."

"God, I wish I had all the answers to the big questions in life."

"I couldn't take it again, having something good happen and then be ripped away. It's so cruel. I saw it on the monitor Nay, it was moving and its heart was beating. It was real. It was real for a while but not long enough. Why didn't I get longer?"

Naomi blinked away her own tears, trying to remain solid and supportive; keep Addison talking. "You should have; you deserved to. You deserve it so much more than most of my clients."

"Then why do they get to have a baby, why is it so hard for me? You said it, the chance of me getting pregnant was negligible."

Naomi sighed heavily. "If I understood all the ironies in life, than I would be on a very different career path. And quite possibly far richer than I am right now."

"See, there's no answers. I can say all this stuff a million times, but it doesn't get me any closer to actually figuring it out. What's the point?"

"The point…is that it's in your head anyway. What's the point in keeping it all to yourself? Maybe there's something we _can_ figure out an answer but maybe there isn't."

"I don't want you to have to listen to me saying the same thing, over and over, for months. You'll be ready to kill me."

"And if it were the other way around? What if you were me?"

Addison exhaled slowly, squirming and releasing Naomi's hand to rub at her eyes. "Don't be all logical."

Laughing, Naomi rolled her eyes. "You are hard work."

They lapsed into a confortable silence, staring unfocussed and lost in their own thoughts. Addison eventually rolled on to her side, repositioning a cushion between her shoulder and Naomi's leg and relaxing into it. "Maybe the guys should know," she said softly.

Naomi nodded. "Maybe they should; they can be very supportive when they want to be."

"Can you tell them?" she asked quietly, eyelids suddenly heavy.

"Yeah of course."

"Okay." Addison's breathing quickly changed into a slow, even pattern, eyes closed as sleep finally enveloped her. Naomi relaxed her head back against the sofa, dozing intermittently with one arm wrapped protectively across Addison's abdomen. She let herself think briefly about her one pregnancy, which resulted in a very healthy and beautiful little girl. She thought of Addison, who had taken such pride in performing the ultrasounds and antenatal checks; and would frequently lay two open palms against the tight skin and await a kick before squealing childishly. And she had delivered Maya, staying for hours before and after the birth; taking turns holding the sleeping pink infant as if part of a parenting trio. And she was almost, Naomi had shared every milestone, whether it was via phone or in person, and she had listened so patiently to every irrational concern. She had only expressed on a handful of occasions, her desperate wish to have a child with Derek over the years, careful not to rain on Naomi's parade, so to speak. And so intent on retaining a relationship with Maya, who had grown up knowing that there was no one she could trust more than her _Aunt Addi_. Naomi remembered clearly, talking to Maya not long before adolescence was due to come hurdling towards them, _if you can't come to me, you go to Aunt Addi. You hear me, Maya? You go to her._

She would have, so willingly, returned the favour to Addison's little girl.

* * *

><p>TBC...<p> 


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